Marta Perry - Murder in Plain Sight

“THANK YOU, MR. FROST.” Jessica held out her hand to the elderly attorney. “I really appreciate your sharing your expertise with me.” Her interview with Frost had been helpful, and he’d been cooperative. Because of the Morgan connection with the case? Maybe, but she still appreciated it.

Gray eyes twinkled behind wire-rimmed glasses. “For a small-town fuddy-duddy, you mean.”

Was her embarrassment showing? That had been exactly the impression she’d had when she’d entered an office that looked as if it hadn’t changed since the 1930s and met the white-haired, stooped gentleman who’d risen from his rolltop desk at her approach. It had only taken a few minutes of conversation to realize how wrong she was.

“You’re as up-to-date as I am, and you have years more experience, as well. I’m surprised you’re not defending Thomas yourself.” An unpleasant thought occurred to her. “Is it because you’re convinced he’s guilty?”

Frost shook his head. “Even if I did, I’d still think he deserved a fair trial, unlike some people I could name, such as our esteemed district attorney.”

He sent an annoyed glance toward the newspaper lying on the corner of his desk. She’d already seen it. It contained a front-page interview with the district attorney, who seemed, by the way he spoke, to have Thomas already convicted and on his way to the state penitentiary.

“Is he usually that-” she considered several words and eliminated them “-outspoken?”

“Preston Connelly is ambitious. A case like this has already drawn regional attention. He’ll make the most of it, I’m sure.”

“Does that mean it would hurt your practice if you took on the case?” That would be a very good reason for bringing in an outsider.

“No, I’m stepping aside on doctor’s orders.” Frost patted his chest. “The old ticker’s been acting up a bit. Oh, I’m fine for routine jobs, but I’m afraid a high-profile murder case is too much.”

“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Don’t look so mournful.” He chuckled. “I’m not going to drop dead yet, but I am in the midst of retiring. Still, if you need any help, you can come to me. Strictly in confidence. Henderson, Dawes and Henderson don’t have to know a thing about it.”

“Thanks. I just might take you up on that.” Somewhat to her surprise, she realized she meant it. It wasn’t in her nature to trust easily, but Leo Frost’s integrity seemed to shine through everything he said.

She walked out of his office smiling, and there was Trey, waiting for her. Her smile faded, and she went toward him with a sense of inevitability. Of course he would show up. Just as well. Before much more time passed, she was going to confront him about what he’d been holding back.

He stood, laying aside the well-thumbed magazine he’d been looking at.

She lifted her eyebrows. “A little late, aren’t you? I expected you to be lying in wait the minute I arrived in town.”

“I had…something else to do this morning.” His normally pleasant expression went somber, and she thought she saw pain in his eyes. Before she could react, the impression was gone. “How did your meeting with Leo go?” he asked.

“Fine.” She wanted to confront him, but she could hardly do that here, with Frost’s elderly secretary pretending to look through a file while she listened to every word. “He’s meeting me at the jail at one o’clock to talk with Thomas.”

“Good.” His tone was brisk, as if whatever bothered him had been swept away. “What are you going to do until then?”

“I have a reservation at Willow Brook Motel in Springville, since I’ll be staying until after the arraignment, probably longer. I may as well go check in.”

She caught an expression of distaste on his face. Was he really that bothered by her presence? “Something wrong?”

He shrugged. “Not if you like faux Pennsylvania Dutch tourist traps. You might be more comfortable at one of the local bed-and-breakfasts, or at the Springville Inn.”

Was that really all that was behind his reaction? She couldn’t trust anything he said, knowing he’d already lied to her once.

“I’ll be fine. After all, I’m here on business, not a vacation.”

They had reached the ground floor of the building, and Trey continued walking with her down the hall toward the parking lot in the rear where she’d left her car. They were alone, doors closed on both sides of them. This might be the best chance she’d have to confront him.

“Tell me something,” she said abruptly.

He halted, looking down at her with a quizzical expression. “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you own the barn where Cherry Wilson was found dead?”

If she expected an explosion in return, she didn’t get it. Trey simply looked blank for a moment.

“Didn’t I?” He frowned. “Maybe I didn’t. I suppose I didn’t think it that important.”

“Not important that the murder happened in your barn? Do you really expect me to buy that?”

His face hardened at her tone. “I’m not sure what to expect from you, Counselor. But that happens to be the truth. And it’s not exactly ‘our’ barn. Our barn is the one behind our house.”

“But you own it. The police had to have questioned you about that.”

“They did.” He bit off the words. “I didn’t even realize the crime happened on a piece of land our corporation owns until they brought it up. I told them just what I’m telling you. The barn where Cherry was found is on an abandoned farm my father bought years ago, miles from our place. Anyone could have had access to it.”

“That person would have to know it was there, and that he could get in.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Meaning Thomas? That’s what the police think, I suppose. But almost anyone in the township might know as much. Country people are aware of things like that.”

“You said it was abandoned. Doesn’t anyone use it?” Her suspicions couldn’t be allayed that easily.

“No one, much of the time. A neighboring farmer sometimes uses it for storage, but I don’t think he has anything in it right now.”

“So you just let it sit there.”

“Believe it or not, we do. The land is too cut up to be good farmland, but eventually it may be ripe for development. Look, this is not really that unusual, no matter how it might seem to you. That land is one small parcel out of hundreds of acres Morgan Enterprises owns in the county. A large part of our business is involved in real estate. I don’t necessarily know the details of every parcel. Naturally I looked it up, once the police told me.”

“I see.” Did that make sense? She supposed so. It would be like expecting her father to know instantly the status of every investment in his portfolio, she’d guess. “Does your mother know?”

“I didn’t tell her. It would just make her feel more responsible.”

“She might easily find it out. It’s been in at least one of the newspaper reports.”

“If and when she does, I’ll deal with it.” He started walking. “Look, I’m not going to keep trying to convince you. Either you accept my word or not.”

She trailed after him to the door, fighting with herself. She wanted to believe him, and the strength of that feeling dismayed her. Trey hadn’t given her much of a reason to trust him.

He held the door for her, and she went through it without speaking. She took a few steps and stopped dead.

“My car…” It sank to the pavement, both tires flat on the side facing her. Anger flickered through her. She hurried to the car, circling it. Not just two. All four tires were flat.

Her breath caught. A knife stuck out of the front tire on the driver’s side, piercing a piece of paper.